by Mary Auclair
Slowly, as if in a nightmare, Mistress Hael pulled her hood down, revealing the three half circles drawn with white paint on her forehead. The same pattern as on the girl from Helbon square. The same as on the attackers from the courtyard.
She’s one of them.
She should have understood sooner. The looks, her reticence to touch the children—even Shari, who had been in her care since her birth. Mistress Hael wasn’t just a hateful woman, she was a woman bent on destruction and death. She was a killer, and Endora and Tallie were her prey.
“Come, now. You wouldn’t want that pretty little girl of yours to be hurt.” Raeg’s low voice was close to Endora’s ear. It was filled with the sick prospect of violence, from one who loved to inflict it. “Be a good little human and everything will be as it should.”
Hael slid a long, shiny object from the folds of her skirt. It shone under the moonlight, thin and deadly. A blade, same as the one used by the attackers in the square. Mistress Hael looked at it as she slid it through the air, a perverse grin on her skeletal face.
“If you call for help, I’ll slit that filthy little human’s neck before anyone can come to help you.” Hael gestured to Tallie with the blade. “Then I’ll rip that blasphemy from your womb as you watch her die.”
The words slithered inside Endora’s mind with the speed of fear, spreading along her nerve endings. Images of death and suffering played in her mind. If she left the castle with these monsters, she and Tallie were lost. Aldric wouldn’t come for them in time. They would lie under a blanket of molten dragon scales as Rhyl carried them away to where the dragons took the dead.
Hael stepped closer, the blade dangerously high and her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
This was the moment where Endora either complied or tried to escape. She wasn’t kidding herself, though. Even if she were skilled in combat, which she wasn’t, she couldn’t best both Hael and Raeg.
What she could do was buy Tallie enough time to escape.
Endora’s hands squeezed Tallie’s shoulders. Bringing her head down as far and quickly as she could, she brought it back up fast, hitting Raeg squarely in the face with the back of her skull. Pain shot through her instantly, but the adrenaline helped and she bent down, shoving Tallie down and to the right as far as the wall.
The child fell and screamed, but she was out of reach of the blade.
A woman’s hiss. Hael was coming.
“Tallie, run!” Endora yelled then, using Raeg’s heavy frame to brace herself, she kicked Hael squarely in the stomach with all her strength. The Delradon woman bent double, her mouth opening to let out a yellowish trickle of saliva as her knees finally gave way.
Endora straightened, ready to sprint after Tallie, but Raeg’s strong hands clamped down on her arms, digging into her skin hard enough to make her cry out in pain.
“You human whore.” Raeg yanked her up, forcing her to face him. Blood dripped down his nose to his chin, and his eyes glittered with murderous intent. A hand closed around her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs, blocking the flow of life to her body.
Endora kicked wildly, trying to hit him anywhere on his bulky body, losing her grip on her fear, slipping in a fast paced panic as her vision started to blur at the edges and her lungs felt like they were filled with molten lava.
A hissing sound ripped through the cold silence enveloping Endora’s mind. A small form ran toward Raeg and kicked at his legs, screeching like a wild animal.
No! No, you were supposed to run away.
“Ha! You little runt.” The hand around her throat loosened but not enough to let in more than a trickle of oxygen. It was just enough so Endora could clearly see Raeg bend down to pick Tallie up by the collar of her coat. The little girl yelled in pain as she was lifted, her hair tangled in the large man’s grip. “I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
Endora’s mind fogged with dread as Raeg shook Tallie like she was nothing more than a ragdoll. If he continued, he could kill her. With the desperation of a mother, she amassed the last of her strength and landed a kick directly in the man’s belly. Her foot dug deep into the soft flesh of his abdomen and the surprise made him grunt in pain. He didn’t let Tallie go, but the merciless shaking stopped and he lowered Tallie down for the briefest moment. The girl took advantage of the footing she regained to push up on her feet and turn her head. Tallie bit down on Raeg’s hand, and the Delradon guard howled as her sharp little teeth dug into his skin.
Endora fell to her knees as Raeg released his grip on her to grab Tallie with his free hand. His large knuckles closed around her frail throat. Endora yelled meaninglessly as Tallie’s eyes filled with horror, with the dread that came with realizing her life was about to end.
“No!” A spidery, harsh voice cut through the haze of violence and Raeg turned his head, loosening his grip on Tallie and allowing her feet to touch the ground but not letting her go. “We need both of them alive.”
“I don’t see why we need the little runt alive. She’s nothing to him. The traitor won’t even care.”
Still, Raeg obeyed, flashing resentful glances at Hael but releasing Tallie enough that the child didn’t struggle anymore, only stared, tears falling down her cheeks in a silent, continuous flow. Endora’s heart slumped to the cold, frozen stone floor.
A new feeling came to life in her belly, birthed from pain and fear, scrambling to freedom in all its grimy, resentful glory. It was hatred. Pure, acidic and toxic, a hatred so consuming she pushed it down inside her body, allowing it to simmer and wait for a chance at retaliation.
I will kill you.
Endora had never hated anyone before. Not even Wilmer. But now she hated Hael and Raeg. And her hatred called for blood.
“The Lord of Purity wants to make an example out of them,” Mistress Hael said, moving closer to Endora. “He wants to make an example, and he’s going to get what he wants. As for you, human whore, listen to me, and listen well. He wants you way more than he wants your putrid whelp of a daughter, so if I were you, I’d obey as fast and easily as I could, because he won’t do much if by any chance Tallie doesn’t make it to his castle. Your choice.”
The words cut the air, hovering in the empty space between the two women. The silvery moonlight played on the blade, like it was excited about the violence to come. Because it would come. The only questions that remained were when, and who would survive?
Endora straightened, holding herself as high as she could. Showing weakness now was a mistake, but showing bravado was sure to be fatal. The best she could hope was to gain enough time to wait for an opening in their vigilance to save Tallie.
Her fingers closed around the necklace, her thumb brushing the polished gold.
Nobody matters like you.
“Don’t hurt Tallie. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Mistress Hael’s face split into a predatory grin, and Endora knew she would have to kill the woman, or be killed by her.
Chapter 21
The gray smoke rose in the night air, soiling the perfection of the midnight blue sky above the snow-covered forest. The biting wind grazed his cheekbones in an icy embrace as Aldric sat low on Rhyl, Dalgo close behind him. They had to share the dragon ride, as Myral was not to leave her egg’s side until the dragonet hatched.
The Knat-Kanassis had threatened Endora and her unborn child, and in doing so, they threatened the dragonet growing innocently in its shell, well hidden in the dragon’s lair. No one would dare, or even think to go there as Myral kept vigil over it—unless they had a secret desire to die in dragon fire.
No. All they needed to do to kill the dragonet was to hurt Endora, and both small lives would be lost. That was why Dalgo was on edge as if his own child was on the line. Because in the strange way of the Draekon, it was.
The brunt of Aldric’s forces were following closely behind on their hovering transport, but the strong wind made it impossible for the machines to fly as fast as the dragon. Aldric and Dalgo would be the first to
land—and to face the results of the Knat-Kanassis’ first open attack on Katanian soil.
They approached fast, driven by Rhyl’s furious pace. The dragon was angry, his rage rippling across his scales, the warmth radiating from his body a searing heat under Aldric’s palms. Almost too much, almost enough to burn. As it was, it would leave blisters and red patches up to his elbows, but no lasting damage. The dragon’s wrath was a complete state of mind, consuming what little self-control the beast had over his protective instincts. The life of his young was in danger, and whoever stood in his way would perish in a blaze of pain to a quick but gruesome death.
I won’t restrain you, friend. We will destroy those fanatics together.
Aldric opened his palms on the searing scales, spreading his fingers wide, trying to appease the animal. Only a savage kind of resolve answered him; Rhyl’s feelings as transparent as any word a man could say.
Finally, Rhyl flew over the town square. The dragon was too large to land anywhere without risking crushing some civilians. People, running and screaming. Women, grabbing children close, pulling them in to their bodies as they ran. Children screaming, crying helplessly in the night.
And fire.
Everywhere, fire spread like an angry taint on the darkness of the night. As Rhyl began his fast, circular descent toward the large, snow-covered fields, Aldric finally saw them. They walked from house to house, dressed in black from head to toe, carrying death on their backs. Four dozen men, more or less, terrorizing a population of almost three hundred. It was no wonder. Civilians had no instinct for violence, no knowledge of the strength of their own numbers.
No knowledge of their fate should they chose not to answer that violence.
Rhyl landed in the field, his body sending a cloud into the air as he melted the snow into steam. He extended his wings, fuming from the nostrils, his eyes crazed with lust for battle.
Shouts and screams answered Rhyl’s arrival.
“No, my friend. Stay here for a while.” Aldric landed on the frozen ground, sinking to his calves in the powdery snow. “The village is already burning. No need to help it do so. Protect whatever civilians you can who take refuge behind you.” He turned to Dalgo. “Wait here for the transport. Take the crew to the north, push them toward Rhyl and me. Tell as many civilians as you can to take refuge behind the dragon.”
“The humans won’t approach Rhyl.” Dalgo glanced up at Rhyl behind Aldric’s shoulder. “They’re even more terrified of him than they are of the Knat-Kanassis.”
Aldric turned his head to survey his dragon, assessing the chance that the humans would be too afraid of Rhyl to approach, even with the murderous fanatics slitting their throats all around. Dalgo was right. Humans feared the dragons more than men, and in his state, Rhyl was a nightmare made flesh.
Carnis igne.
Fire made flesh. Deadly and merciless. Aldric looked around, trying to see through the chaos.
His eyes caught on a small boy, only four or five, standing in the doorway to his house about a hundred feet away. His delicate stature was silhouetted in the blazing light from the burning first floor of his house. He stayed where he was, his eyes enlarged by the glow of the fire, ignoring the danger in order to stare, mesmerized, at the mythical beast. A loud crack interrupted the chaos of the night, and the boy turned just in time to see the main rafter holding his wooden farmhouse break in two.
Aldric cursed and broke into a run. He dug into his preternatural link to the dragon for added speed and strength. The small figure was apparently frozen, too scared to move, to run to safety as he should. As the seconds slipped into one another, Aldric feared he wouldn’t reach the boy in time.
Then he was on him, dragging him into the deep snow, six feet away from the house. Aldric turned, hiding the small boy beneath his body as well as he could, to see the house crumbling down in a heap of coals and death.
“Are you okay?” Aldric lifted the boy by his shoulders and stared down at the glazed, shocked eyes that latched on to the ruins of his house without blinking. When the child didn’t answer, Aldric shook him gently, suddenly afraid the boy was staring at his family’s tomb.
A woman ran to him, landing in the snow, her shoulders almost bare in her light nightgown. The child was torn from his hands as she pulled him to her chest, sobbing loudly.
“What were you thinking?” The woman spoke, her face buried in the small boy’s hair. “Why did you go back? You almost died.”
“I forgot Willy.” The child’s mouth shook, then he melted into tears, producing a small stuffed toy shaped as a bear. “I’m so sorry, Mamma.”
The woman sobbed even louder, hugging the child so tight Aldric wondered if he could breathe. Then two wild, scared eyes landed on him.
“Thank you. You saved my son,” the woman said. “Who are these men? They came in the night and they just started burning everything, killing anyone who tried to stop them. My husband, my brothers, they tried, but…”
The woman’s voice broke, and Aldric’s face tightened at her words. The villagers had fought back, it seemed, but they were only civilians. Weaponless, disorganized, with women and children to defend. They didn’t stand a chance.
A cold, focused rage filled his veins as Rhyl infused a surge of power into his body through the bond. Yes, he could use the dragon’s rage, but he had to keep his focus on it, or risk destroying innocent lives as well.
“Take your son and anyone else you can find, and hide behind Rhyl.” Aldric pointed to the dragon. “He will protect you.”
The woman’s eyes grew large as she stared at the dragon, his wings open and his mouth and nostrils fuming with dark, angry smoke.
“He will not harm you.” Aldric got to his feet. “Go to the dragon. Stay safe.”
He was vaguely aware of the scrambling of the woman and child as he got to his feet and cast a long, circular look around. The fifty or so houses that congregated around the town square were all ablaze, but the Knat-Kanassis didn’t stop their attack. Even after Rhyl’s landing, when he would have expected to find them scuttling away in fear, they remained, slowly gathering into a grim line of hooded figures. Aldric had been wrong to think they were a ragged few. The men gathering for battle were all tall and wide shouldered, at least fifty of them. In their hands, the long, curved blades of the Knat-Kanassis reflected the red light of the fire.
They walked on, unconcerned by the presence of the dragon only a few hundred feet away. In the distance, Aldric heard Dalgo barking orders at the newly arrived men—who outnumbered the Knat-Kanassis three to one, at least. Still, the fight was going to be harder than they had anticipated.
How are they not afraid? Something is wrong.
Then the memory of the woman and her poisonous blade came back to his mind. The long days of weakness, the numbing pain that had settled into each cell of his body as Rhyl fought for his life, draining him of all superfluous energy… it all came back to him.
They had dragon roots. Those blades were covered with death.
Aldric slowly brought out his sword, the dragon forged alloy as light as air in his grip. One nick was all it would take. His body would shut down, and he would be defenseless to avoid the killing blows. Rhyl would soon follow, and the kingdom would fall prey to whoever was behind the attacks.
As he readied himself for battle, the men slowed down. Their faces, shrouded in shadows, looked up. Fear spread on their features, fear and awe.
Aldric turned to see Rhyl charging at them at full speed. The beast sensed danger inside Aldric through their link and his rage had reached a boiling point. Columns of dark gray smoke rose from his nostrils and his mouth was halfway open, revealing a deep, dark red.
Dragon fire.
Once it was produced, the beast was powerless to staunch the flow of his rage until it had run its course.
Rhyl approached and reared up as a deafening, deep roar invaded the night. Flames licked the corners of his mouth, leaching out like the hands of the damned out of
hell.
“The traitor!” the leader of the Knat-Kanassis shouted, pointing his blade at Aldric. “Fast, before the dragon strikes.”
Fifty men turned to Aldric, raising their swords. In the distance, Dalgo and his men were shouting, some urging civilians to safety, some fighting more Knat-Kanassis. The snow was littered with bodies, some still moving, others in a stillness so complete it hurt to look. Finally Rhyl’s paws dug into the snow on either side of Aldric.
Then it came. Fire poured out of Rhyl’s mouth, thirty feet above Aldric’s head. It spread like liquid embers, rolling over the ground, reducing everything to black ashes that dissolved in the wind. Soon, the town of Helbon—Endora’s hometown—was reduced to a black pile of ashes in the ghostly shape of what it had once been.
There was nothing to do. The beast rained death on the Knat-Kanassis and the remnants of the town alike. It was only due to a lucky trick of fate that the Knat-Kanassis had gathered the population in the town square, or Rhyl would have rained death on them too. The dragon still spewed his fire, apparently lost in his rage. Aldric watched as the trees around the town center started to catch fire, spreading a rapidly growing brazier around the devastated city.
He has to stop.
Aldric looked up at Rhyl, heat coming off the animal’s abdomen in scorching waves. The snow had all but melted around Aldric and Rhyl, and the beast’s talons were digging into earth.
“Stop. My friend, you have to stop.”
When Rhyl ignored him, Aldric walked away from his friend’s protection and stood dangerously close to the flames. “Rhyl!” he called again, and again. By the fifth time, the flames started to abate but the flow didn’t stop.
It took long minutes for Rhyl to control his temper enough to staunch his fire but at last the beast closed his jaws and lowered his head. Aldric stared into the glazed, wild eyes of the dragon and placed a hand on the middle of his nuzzle, between the still fuming nostrils.
